after Georges Braque, “The Studio” (Vase before a Window)
In the well-lit studio, a cushion
on a yellow stool
near potted plant with heart-shaped leaves
before the three-paned window.
A hand-stitched rounded cushion,
threads of emerald, mustard, pink
radiate like thick-veined leaves
from a central cushion stem
all perched atop a sturdy wooden stool
the painter isn’t sat on.
There’s a palette, quite guitarish,
strings (or brushes) much linguinish.
The textiles in the room are broad:
floral paper, chunky vase
the plant is potted down in.
Layers of papers, swath of pink,
rest upon an easel. But no one’s bum
is resting on that cushion:
it seems the work’s preoccupation
and featured as self portrait.
Outside the window, weak blue sky
some puffy clouds and street-car wires.
The view is overwhelmed by wood
and golds, especially that cushion:
the one who thought the vase was “it”
(disinterested sitter) put on airs—
painters, writers, all great art
depends upon our cushions.